


A Love Letter

by Iregretnothingandshipjimlock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Suicide, agh it hurts, jimlock, love letter, too soon?, why the fuck did I do this to myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 16:04:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iregretnothingandshipjimlock/pseuds/Iregretnothingandshipjimlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A love letter of sorts from Jim to Sherlock.<br/>Trigger warning for suicide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Love Letter

To my Sherlock-

I used to think that I was untouchable. The pool, remember- "no one ever gets to me." I was sure, sure that my little.... well, infatuation, let's say... I knew that I would get over it, knew that it wouldn't stop me from doing what I had to do.  
I'm not wrong often, Sherlock, and I never admit when I am. But this once, just this once, I will admit that I was wrong. Unbearably so.  
Because you wormed your way into my head, Sherlock Holmes. At first, you were just my little distraction. But you- unlike the rest of the world- got more and more interesting, untill playing our little games filled my head, were all that kept me going.   
I'd never even had a childish infatuation before, Sherlock. So realizing that I was completely in love with you? Well. It came as a shock, to say the least. I didn't believe myself at first. But the facts all lined up. An elevated pulse whenever you even texted me. A flush whenever I heard your name on the news. No matter how I tried to explain it away, I knew that it was too late.  
And I can't explain what was going through my head that day on the roof. I knew that you would fake your death. You had to- just as I would fake mine. But just in case, maybe it was best to confess. If something went wrong... At least you'd know.  
So I told you. And that smile, that huge smile that broke out on your face, and the delight in your voice that you tried so hard to hide as you said, "I suppose that I may reciprocate those feelings.", and the way that we clung to each other on that rooftop...  
Who says that psychopaths can't feel love?  
So you might be wondering why, if I love you so damn much, you've just found my... well.... shit. They're working already. I'm having trouble concentrating. Sorry, love. I am trying. Maybe I should have written this before I took the meds, but you know what they say about hindsight...  
If you're reading this, then you've obviously just found my... for lack of a better word, corpse. (And while I'm on the subject, they need a better word for a dead body. How do you think I feel, referring to myself as a corpse?) Sorry. Focus.  
You may well be wondering why I'm dead in an armchair and why I've done this to myself. Believe me, if I didn't have to.... But I do. I did. Suicide was never how I saw myself going out, but then again, I never saw myself falling in love with my distraction, did I?  
Now. Reasoning.  
I believe that I once told you that being changeable was my only weakness. At the time, that was true. But now I have another one, which is so much bigger and so much darker and so much more vulnerable: you.  
If somebody stole you from me, I... they could make me do anything- and I do mean anything- to get you back. And I can't have that, my love. I just can't.  
So here we are instead. You, reading my suicide note in shock, and me, OD'd in an armchair. I'm sorry. And...  
I love you.  
-Jim


End file.
